The flash of indignation in the scarlet woman’s eyes does not go unnoticed by the silver witch. Voidless black eyes remain impassive as she continues to study the lean minx in the same manner she did a snake curled in her path. She had little doubt that the power of her strong legs and jagged hooves could end the smaller creature’s life, but the necessity of it had always been the deciding factor. If the snake should raise its head in defiance or strike towards her shadow, without a doubt Nyimara would end it if only to save herself the trouble of having to look after a stricken child. If the creature remained as impassive of her existence, flattening itself onto the sun-baked earth in hopes of avoiding discovery… well that did nothing more than boost her ego and allow the serpent the oppertunity to live another day. It is the same judgment she gives this mare. Clearly, her remark about Atlantis had hit a nerve of some kind. Personally, she saw no attraction to the unbearable humidity and claustrophobic density of the jungle. Despite having lived much of her youth in the Ridge with Bjorn, Nyimara found the wide open deserts with its dry, arid winds more up her alley. But to each their own.
..’Yes ma’am..’ the crimson mare replies, moving down the slope of the sand with far less grace than one bred to the environment. A single fluted lobe twitches amid the wind-swept tangle of her silver-white mane as she watches the mare’s movements through her peripheral.
”The more practice you have on the shifting dunes, the better your control and endurance will be…” she begins, her long whipcord switching lazily against the supple curve of her hip. The mare’s admission that her father had made no particular as to what territory in Salem Tefnut sought was a bit more concerning. She liked to think her name was whispered in hushed reverence across
all the islands, not just the one she currently resided in. Her invitation to meet him, however, is met with a less than amused huff. Nyimara had no desire to visit Atlantis much less seek out some unknown stallion who had never heard of her before. What good would
that do her? Annubis’ presence on the island was all the connection she needed to the jungle. It helped to have… family on each of the islands; something she begrudgingly would admit Solomon’s expansive bloodlines have taught her.
”The Desert is the largest and most central territory in Salem. Each territory borders us in one place or another… she continues, thrusting her hooves forward to quicken her pace to a jog.
”No surprise really that you wound up here.” she responds flatly, slowing her pace to a halt as she guides the mare up yet another hillock and halts. Thrusting her small, dished muzzle first in one direction and then the other, Nyimara does her best to point out particulars for the young mare.
”The Dunes to the south are our only rival in size but their lead, Helios is a friend….” she begins, pausing as her words trail off with a semblance of a warm smile on her lips. She shakes her head, ridding herself of the image of the handsome chestnut stallion perched proudly on the crest of the Dunes she herself had once owned.
”The largest freshwater oasis lies just along that border so when word needs to be passed between us that is where we meet. The Hills to the east is run by my daughter and her…mate..” the last word is coated in disgust but she does not pause to give anything further away.
”Needless to say things are… tense between us. The Badlands…. Well, they have been far too quite for quite some time now. I fully intend to make a trip that direction in the near future to see exactly what is transpiring.” She needed the Badlands to heel if she intended on bringing Rhaenys and the Hills to reason. But that was a problem for another day. A single arched brow rises as the silver-haired witch turns her gaze to the russet mare at her side.
”Got it?” Not that she planned on repeating herself.